StarCrossed and Doomed
by NinjaNakkiOfCabin11
Summary: Glimmer/Cato, in which Clove takes Glimmer's place in the Tracker Jacker attack, a forbidden and doomed love arises, and these Games become something no one will ever forget. They really need the odds in their favor...
1. Female Tribute of the 74th Hunger Games

**A/N: I've always **_**loved**_** the Hunger Games books, but I'll admit, I never gave much thought to any romance/infatuation in the career pack at all, except maybe Clove and Cato might've been friends (friends only) **_**before **_**the Games, because of when Cato begged Clove to stay alive. But after seeing the movie-twice!- I decided that I will absolutely ship Glimmer/Cato. Now, before you think, **_**Glimmer and Cato? What the Hell? **_**you should see the movie-I highly recommend it- Glimmer and Cato flirt and she even falls asleep cuddled in his arms. It's really, really cute. =) This is my version of the Hunger Games, in which certain people die in place of others, and the victor is yet to be determined….sort of.**

**I don't own Hunger Games, but I wish I did.**

_**~Glimmer's Point Of View~**_

As soon as my brother lets go of my hand, I immediately want to reach out and snatch it up again. I don't feel as safe without him standing next to me; I feel vulnerable and slightly frightened.

But I'll _never_ tell _anyone _that.

As far as anyone is concerned, I'm just like every other person from District 1: Fierce and bloodthirsty, willing to fight for the slot as female district tribute, and willing to slaughter to bring unneeded prosperity and publicity to my district.

But I'm not. Not even close.

Maybe I was, once. But that flame was stomped out as soon as my older brother, Smolder, was Reaped when I was 9 years old. I had already begun Tribute Training, just as every other kid my age in my District had, but I guess I hadn't really processed what being a Tribute meant, in the end- murdering innocent people, and being murdered yourself. Oh, but, my brother being Reaped _definitely_ straightened me out. As soon as his name was called out, an extreme cold traveled down my spine, right to my very core. Realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I might lose my brother. Forever.

Of course, that was ridiculous, I shouldn't have had to worry: His name had barely been spoken and about five people had shot up immediately, volunteering.

But it had scared the _shit_ out of me.

However, I couldn't let it show; couldn't tell anyone. If anyone knew, I'd be viewed as weak. My family wouldn't exactly disown me, but there would be a thick, black cloud hanging above all of our heads; it'd never be the same, they'd always be disappointed with me.

So instead, I busied myself with training. I trained long and hard, learned to mask my emotions. I showed no fear, no mercy, no vulnerability. I distanced myself form everyone but my family, and perfected a cold and calculating look. I learned to work people, to get what I wanted, no matter what I had to do.

I was tough, no doubt about it. I was decent with a sword, wicked with a spear, but absolutely deadly with a crossbow. I was clever, but not _too_ clever, and smart, but not exactly school smart. More like people smart, if you know what I mean.

For the most part, I was half-feared, half-admired, but that was mainly by the younger people. I was actually at about the same level as about 10 others my age, but the eleven of us, we were _good_. We were what you might call the Top of the Class. I excelled in combat, better than most, if I do say so myself. Which I do. And so does my trainer.

Not that I'm bragging or anything.

"Welcome, welcome!" Fabio Surpile announced into the microphone, breaking me out of my reverie.

Fabio was a short, stocky, buff guy, who would, if he wasn't tinged head to toe in purple, look like a frequent kickass bar brawler. His hair was powdered green this time around, complementing his lavender purple face. Orange swirls curled upward around his eyes, more than likely stick-on lashes.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" With a jolt, I realized they'd already played the Panem Anthem, read the Treaty of Treason, and showed the accompanying video.

_Listen up, bitch._ _Pay attention._ I scold myself, making my face contort back into its now-usual expression: bottom lip thin, top lip normal, eyes narrowed in glinting with fierceness. I roll my shoulders back and allow my eyes to flick over to where Smolder now stands, next to my parents. He was 19 now, so he didn't have to worry about the Reaping. I try to convince myself that I will be alright; I don't have to worry about a tesserea, so my name is in the same amount of times as just about everyone else my age, save for a few. If I am Reaped, on the off-chance, there is sure to be a volunteer to take my place. In fact, there was likely to be a brawl to take my spot.

However, if I wasn't Reaped, I would have to volunteer, to keep up my reputation. Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, and think I was a wimpy weakling.

Normally, the oldest to volunteer gets Tribute rights, if more than one person volunteers at the same time. But if a twelve year old shouts out "I volunteer!" before anyone else, even if an 18-year-old wants to volunteer, the twelve year old gets the coveted spot: First come, first serve. If three people volunteer at once, and any of them are the same age and the oldest to volunteer, they will literally fight it out to get Tribute rights. That's just how it is here in District 1.

With this in mind, I remind myself that I won't have to die, and won't have to fight innocent people.

And then Fabio drops the bombshell.

"It has recently come to our attention that many of you who were originally Reaped in the past, and someone has volunteered and taken your place, feel, well, robbed." Fabio flashes a sheepish smile. "So, this year, it will be up to the original Tribute to decide whether or not someone may take their place. If so, then Volunteers may, well, volunteer." He chuckles.

With that, he jumps over to the right side of the stage, and plunges his hand into the large crystal ball. He unceremoniously plucks a card out and gallops back over to the mic. He rips it over, reads the name to himself, and smiles.

"Well, our courageous boy Tribute this year is…..Marvel Windhill!" Fabio claps, a clear signal for all of us to clap as well.

I watch Marvel as he swaggers up to the stage, a smirk playing on his face. He doesn't even give Fabio a chance to ask when he says, "I'm in it to win it!"

With that, the crowd erupts into cheers and catcalls. Marvel's lazy grin only grows wider.

"Now for the girls!" Fabio cheers, racing to the left side, the girls' side.

I barely have time to swallow and hope it isn't me before the card is in Fabio's hand. He races back to the microphone, a wide grin on his face as he opens the card.

_Notmenotmenotme-_

"And this year's girl Tribute for the 74th annual Hunger Games is….."

_Notmenotmenotme _

"Glimmer Moran!"

My breath hitches and my heart stops. I'm cold to the core again, just like I was when I was nine.

Only this time, I feel frozen, because I know I cannot allow someone to take my place, be called forever weak. I know I must accept.

I am female Tribute for the 74th annnual Hunger Games.

And I am going to die.

**A/N: Reviews cue faster updates! Seriously! =) Leave your thoughts, and she meets Cato next chapter!**

**Read on and Rock out,**

**NinjaNakkiOfCabin11**


	2. The Boy from District 2

**A/N: Woah, positive feedback! =D Let's get to it, right away, ya'll probably don't want to hear me ramble about my problems…=P**

**I don't own The Hunger Games. But I wish I did.**

_**Glimmer's P.O.V.**_

Somehow, a grin finds its way onto my face. I shoulder a few other girls out of the way, sauntering up towards the stage.

It's complete silence in the square. It's like everyone drew in a collective breath, and is holding it, just waiting to see my reaction.

As if they don't already know.

The sound of my footsteps echoes in the still air. I stop right in front of the stage, shoulders rolled back, chin up. I see myself on the screen behind Fabio, and there's no denying it: I look like a winner.

It's ironic, really. I sure as hell don't _feel _like a winner.

I feel like a dead girl walking.

My reflection shows me grinning fit to bust. Suddenly, my mouth opens and I say, "Bring it _on_." With more confidence than I really feel. There's no way my brain authorized my mouth to say that, but the damage is done, and the crowd's roar is deafening.

A couple of Peacekeepers guide me up to the stage, abandoning me next to the girl's glass ball.

"Well, you two shake hands!" Fabio chirps with inappropriate pep.

As my cold, clammy hand connects with Marvel's rough, dry hand, Fabio spreads his arms wide behind us and shouts:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you: The courageous tributes of District 1 in the 74th annual Hunger Games: Marvel Windhill and Glimmer Moran!"

~*~**FIRE~*~IS~*~CATCHING~*~**

Fabio pounds on my door, rousing me from my deep, dreamless sleep. "Good morning, Sugar Plum! Today's the Day!" He trills. I flop my head back down to my pillow and listen to the sound of his retreating footsteps. I roll over to face the ceiling, rub the crusty gunk from the corner of my eyes, and look over at the digital calendar on the opposite wall to confirm what, exactly, "The Day" is.

The calendar blinks the following message in bright red lights:

**OPENING CEREMONY; TRIBUTES INTRODUCED**

Great. Just perfect. I spring up out of bed, locate the bathroom, and jump into the shower. I press a few buttons, select my desired temperature, and let out a breath that feels as if it's been pent up for days.

As the jets surrounding me shoot out foaming, minty-scented bubbles I allow my mind to wander back to yesterday evening.

_Three Peacekeepers guide me into the Justice Building and down a long, dark corridor. One of them grips my elbow and steer me into a room branching off to the left. There was a single window, the sunlight streaming into the room, lighting it up and warming it. I rip my elbow away from the Peacekeepers and shoot a dirty glare at their retreating back. As the door clicks shut, I let out one, small, pitiful sob. I regained my composure just in time for the door to fly open, revealing my brother, my kid sister trailing after him._

"_Glim!" Smolder chokes out pulling me into his arms, squeezing me tight. I allow myself to be smothered; he smells like home, sunshine, and the Earth._

_Besides, if I die of lack of oxygen now, I won't have to worry about the Games._

"_Glimmer, you're going to win, right?" My little sister asked. Tears were pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill over. _

_I pulled out of Smolder's embrace and catch her around her waist, pulling her to me. "Saphira, I will win. I swear I will." I say. And I mean it._

_My mom and dad come in, too. My mom looks slightly pained, but my dad's face is emotionless. My mom comes forward an extracts Saphira from my grasp, then pulls me in for a quick, tight hug. My dad comes forward and places a hand on my shoulder. _

"_As soon as that gong goes off, Glimmer, you go straight for the goods. There's no use in drawing out the deaths during that bloodbath. Pick up the first weapon you find, and get to the mouth of the damn Cornucopia, you hear me? You don't even have to kill 'em; either disarm or wound them, so that they can't hurt you or kill you. Once you get your luxury pickings, you can pick 'em off. Form an alliance, but don't get too attached. They all have to die, in the end."_

_And with that, my dad pushes my brother and my mother out of the door, and grabs my sister. With a curt nod, he too sweeps out of the room._

_Nobody even got to tell me goodbye. I never got to tell them I loved them. I mighty not ever get the chance too ever again._

_I get no other visitors, as I am close to no one else._

_It kind of stings._

_Soon, Fabio comes and collects me, guiding me out onto the train. I smile and wave out the window, bidding goodbye to my fellow, beloved District. Before I know it, the train shoots off, 250 miles per hour before I can so much as blink. _

_As we are the closest District to the Capitol, the ride takes less than 10 minutes, just long enough for me to meet Topaz, my mentor. Fabio, Topaz, and Wen (Marvel's mentor) check us in at the capitol, then guide us into glass tubes, to avoid the massive crowd waiting around the station. Even inside the train I can hear the cheering. Before I know it, we're standing in the Lobby of the main building. As soon as we get to our floor, I skip the tour and immediately crash in my room._

With a sigh, I press a small red button, stopping the water. I step out of the shower and allow myself to be blow dried but surrounding jets, the toasty hot air tousling my hair. I slip on a robe and drag a brush through my blonde hair. I'm about to step out of the bathroom when I stop.

I slowly back up, then turn to face the one person who is my best friend and worst enemy all rolled into one; the person I want to be, but hate being; the one who knows me best, but doesn't know a thing:

Me.

I know I'm attractive. I've always known; when you grow up in a household like mine, in a district like mine, being semi-attractive is crucial. I wouldn't have made it to Tribute training, even. I'm a far cry from the prettiest girl in the District, but that's okay, because nearly every girl who is super-pretty in my District is also a stuck-up, prissy bitch.

But looking into this mirror, I decide that I like the way I look. Even if my ears stick out a bit, and I have a slight spray of freckles, something my Mother strongly disapproves of. My long, blonde hair seems intent to tangle back up into soft waves, dropping past my shoulders. My blue eyes are nothing special, though. They don't naturally sparkle, and they definitely don't glitter with excitement. I wonder if this is how I really look, all the time.

I tear myself away from the mirror and pad out to the tall dresser. A soft, baby blue shirt and khaki pants are laying on top of it, along with a pair of shoes unlike any I've ever seen. They have springy soles and lace up, and are extremely squishy as I slid my feet into them. Gel, I decide.

After I am dressed, I scurry out of the door and down to the dining room, where it seems that Topaz, Wen, and Fabio have all already scarfed down their breakfast. Marvel sits next to the head of the table, a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth, buttering a roll. I quickly join the group, sitting down across from Marvel.

I load my plate with scrambled eggs, pieces of bacon, and biscuits covered in lumpy, yet delicious-smelling sauce. As long as I'm here and have access to it, why not try the Capitol foods?

As I pour myself a tall glass of some blue liquid, Fabio clears his throat and prods my mentor in her knee.

"Oh, right." Topaz says sheepishly, looking up from a little phone-like thing in her hand. "Today is essential, you two. If you screw this up, it'll take a miracle to keep you alive. You're gonna get hurt, kids. And when you do, and can't heal yourself with wildlife and herbs or whatever you manage to scrounge up, you're going to need some help from the sponsors." She says. Now, she's all business, that phone-thing tucked away into her pocket, and her hands folded together on the table.

I nod, letting her know that I'm aware of how crucial today is. Marvel only polishes off his green-tinted drink.

Wen clears his throat and steps in. "Glimmer, you are at a disadvantage right now. You went to bed before the recap of all the Reapings, so you haven't seen the competition, or those you'll need to form alliances with. I'd try to get my hands on a copy of them, but it'd be pointless, as you're about to go see them all in person."

Damn, I hadn't thought of that last night. I mentally slap myself for being so stupid; he's right, I'm at a huge disadvantage. Everyone who's volunteered is definitely competition. Those with mass and muscle are as well. And those who are frightening, well, it would've been better if I'd gotten my first glimpse of them through a TV screen, where no one would be recording my reaction. It's concerning how Marvel is failing at hiding his delighted grin at my obvious disadvantage.

Fabio looks at his wristwatch and squeals. "We're going to be late! You need primped! Go! Now!"

At this, Topaz and Wen jump up, and motion for us to do the same. We do, and are promptly guided into the glass elevator.

Wen pushes a few buttons and soon we are speeding off, the elevator jerking in all directions. Suddenly, the elevator halts and opens, revealing a pristine white hallway, tons of doors lining each side for the corridor.

Topaz guides me to the first door on the left. She takes out a card and swipes it into this slot next to the doorknob. A light turns green and Topaz flings the door open, shoving me inside.

"I'll be back soon, kid. Let them do their job."

"I'm not a kid." I snarl. But it's to no avail, as she's already slamming the door.

At once, three bubbling people surround me, their shrill voices piercing the air and perfumes choking me.

"She's beautiful!" One with pink hair squeals. "I'm Americ." She squeals again, for emphasis I guess.

"Simply stunning!" Another throws their hands into the air with excitement. "I'm Loyola." She beams, flipping her shoulder-length blue hair.

The last jumps up and down with excitement. "Amazing! I can't wait for Cynthi to see you! I'm Junix."

"Glimmer." I announce coolly. With excited nods, they guide me to a table and lie me down.

I'm immediately stripped of my clothes, and Junix starts smearing waxy paste onto my legs. There isn't much to rip off, though, because I make sure to keep my legs shaved as best I can with my favorite hunting knife.

Loyola immediately starts parting my hair and pining pieces with pins, while Americ starts putting powders on my face.

**~*~FIRE~*~IS~*~CATCHING~*~**

By the time they're done, my face is made-up, my hair is pinned in an elaborated, braided updo, and my legs are smooth and soft, and my nails are painted and dotted with colorful gems.

Americ, Loyola, and Junix are still fawning over me when my main stylist, Cynthi, struts in. She's got a dark burgundy hair cut into a sleek bob, and her eyelids are heavily shadowed with green.

I instantly like her.

"Be gone." She demands, waving the ditzy girls off. They scuttle away instantly. Cynthi produces a dress bag from behind a closed door on the opposite side of the room. "Sit." She barks. I obey as she unzips the bag, pulling out the dress. My breath catches in my throat.

It's beautiful. It's a one-strapped, white gown that flows freely and ends at about ankle length. However, it's softly stained rainbow colors at random intervals, and multicolored gems are woven into some threads, and the hem is made of mirrored silk. She hands it to me and I slip it on; it fits like a glove, hugging every curve.

Cynthi steers me around to face a floor-length mirror, and I admit: I am absolutely stunning. Wispy curls of my hair frame my face, giving me an innocent look, while my high cheekbones are complemented with a light blush. My lids are covered with a soft rose color, my lashes dark with mascara, I believe. Cynthi smiles and slides a clip-on white flower into my hair. "There." She whispers. "You are beautiful."

She's barely spoken five words, but may have just saved my life. They've all done wonderful jobs, the four of them. I'll admit.

The look is simple, yet perfect.

I may just get sponsors yet.

**~*~FIRE~*~IS~*~CATCHING~*~**

I'm in the glass elevator again, and Marvel is in a white suit with a sparkling tie and sparkling cuffs, but the white fabric on his suit seems to shimmer. He gives me a lazy grin as I join him, barefoot.

Topaz whispers, "You look beautiful." in my ear, and Wen winks when he sees me. I ignore them all, my head high.

The elevator slows to a stop and the doors open again, to reveal a whole crowd of people, rushing around. I see a few Tributes, here and there as my mentor leads me forward, to Marvel and I's chariot. It's at the very front, and it feels like everyone is staring, when in reality, hardly any even glance at us, because they are to preoccupied with their own affairs.

I'm at the side of District 4's chariot and still moving forward when I first see him. The boy from District Two. Back in the elevator, Wen read me a list of names of the Tributes from the Districts, trying to prepare me. I can recall his name.

Cato.

**A/N: Review, please?**

**Read on and Rock out,**

**NinjaNakkiOfCabin11**


	3. Marvel's Possible Front

**A/N: Holy crap, you guys are AMAZING, and I absolutely love every single one of you! There's a complete list of you reviewers and alerters at the bottom, and some responses! =D I haven't got to tell you much of anything, so to make up for it, I'm telling you three things:**

**1. Yesterday, during math, my math teacher says, "What is the length of the tree?" I raise my hand and she calls on me. I smartly answer, "The tree." "No, the length of the tree is **_**not**_** the tree….." -_-**

**2. I have Atomic Turquoise hair, so people have alternated between calling me a Smurf, Smurfette, A Lady from the Capitol, and Natural Rainbow**

**3. People walk by me "subtly" singing The Smurf Song (LA, LA, LALALA, SING A HAPPY SONG!) It's quite funny. =)**

_**Glimmer's P.O.V.**_

He is _big_. Like, big as in _ripped_.

He and his partner are clothed in golden armor and helmets with golden wings. He's standing with his side to me, but if he turned to face me completely, I have a feeling his face would be just as attractive.

Let me tell you, there is nothing hotter than a boy with muscles, in my opinion.

But, as if he's read my thoughts, he turns to face me, and he is no boy- he's a _man_.

His short, close-cropped blonde hair goes rather nicely with shining baby blue eyes. The golden breastplate of his armor seems to outline all of his muscles, and his jaw is set, giving him a dangerous look.

A half-smile, half-smirk forms on my face, but as soon as I realize this, I twist my mouth into a scowl. Before I can tear my eyes away as well, a smirk forms on his lips, like he's amused at my reaction and odd facial expressions.

I look away, my eyes on the chariot I'm approaching, but I can feel his gaze on me as I pass.

The chariot is plain white, but the bridles and straps on the horses are all decorated with jewels and gems of varying colors, sizes, and shapes. Topaz stands back, biting her lip as Wen helps me up into the chariot. Fabio flits around Marvel and I, fussing over little details and giving us specific instructions on what _not_ to say/do.

"Just smile, wave, and look like a winner. It should be simple, but believe it or not, many have messed it up." Fabio says sternly, looking Marvel square in the eyes. I suppress a snicker.

"Well, Fabio, I don't have to _try_ to _look_ like a winner; I _am_ one, it comes naturally." Marvel grins a dazzling smile.

Fabio tutters away, mumbling something about ignorance and overconfidence. Topaz fixes me with one last reassuring smile, then follows suit.

"Good luck." Wen gives us a thumbs-up and leaves to watch from the mentor's box.

"So." Marvel turns to me, his look of lazy confidence gone, replace with intensity and seriousness. "Us being allies is a given, right?"

I give him a look. "Yes, you dolt. I can't believe you really had to ask that." I roll my eyes, my face hard.

"Well, you have been known to be rather….unpredictable." Again with that God-damned grin.

I'm about to smack him before I remember I can't, because it'd be against the rules and could get me in lots of trouble. However, I do vow to smack that grin off sometime before one of us dies.

Instead, I settle for asking a simple question.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I demand, fixing him with a cold stare.

"Nothing, nothing." He raises his hands up in defense. "It's just that you're kind of hard to figure out, you know?"

"Are you sure you even want to figure me out, and know me? Isn't it easier if you don't? I mean, at least one of us will be dead, in the end, and if it comes down to us, wouldn't it be easier?" I inquire.

His eyes darken. "Yeah." It's short and clipped, and I'm sure I've struck a nerve. He turns to face the front, as do I.

So, it seems Marvel may just be like me, in a few ways. He still has a bit of humanity in him, under that cool and collected front. Maybe he doesn't want to do this, and that front is exactly that: a front. Maybe he did it to keep up his reputation, like me.

I glance over to see him mentally evaluating a little girl from an outline district, eyeing her much like the way a predator eyes it's prey.

Or maybe he is just a prick like I originally thought.

I'm thinking about what would happen if it came down to the two of us, when suddenly a girl with a neon green wig and a clipboard barks out an order for everyone to prepare for chariot launch.

All of the remaining mentors and escorts scatter, and a trumpet sounds.

It's met with a roar from what can only be the crowd, and with a jolt, we're moving. As soon as we breakthrough the velvet curtain, harsh, bright lights pierce my eyes, making me squint in what I presume is an unattractive expression. I recall Fabio's advice and smile brightly, waving my hand like royalty. The crowd roars it's approval.

"Laaaaaadies, Gentlemen, and everything in between: I give you the District One Tribute of the 74th annual Hunger Games: Marvel Windhill and Glimmer Morannnnn!" Caesar Flickerman booms. The crowd goes into a frenzy as I begin blowing kisses to the crowd, and winking at the cameras.

_Everything in between? That's awful._

Marvel grabs onto my hand, and it takes all of my willpower to not recoil at his touch. I smile brightly as Marvel whoops, raising our entwined hands high into the air. The crowd is in a frenzy.

Soon, the District 2 Tributes- Cato and the small, lithe girl- come out, then the next pair, and the next, and the next, until finally the girl from 12, who I am told volunteered for her sister, comes out, with a blonde boy. Their hands are up in the sky as well, much in the way ours are.

I crane my neck to see what is making the crowd go so berserk and can't help the involuntary gasp that escapes my lips.

The District 12 chariot is on _fire_.

Flames lick up the sides of it, dancing around on the Tributes' costumes. Marvel grabs my arm and yanks me back around to face the stage where President Snow awaits.

I wrench my arm away from him and shoot him a glare, but he's too busy giving a glare of his own- at nothing in particular, but it's full of hate and anger.

I inch away from him. He looks rather dangerous in this state, and his expression is murderous.

Soon, the District 12 chariot rolls to a stop, the flames vanish, and Snow stand up, calming down the crowd. "Happy Hunger Games!" He booms. "I present to you, the official Tributes of the 74th annual Hunger Games!"

How many times is everyone going to say that? The official Tributes of the 74th Hunger Games? Why do they have to refer to us as the Tributes? I am a person. I have a name. I have a home. I have a family. I have dreams. Plans.

These thoughts so consume me, that I barely process that the chariots are back behind the red velvet curtain, that my team is congratulating and comforting me, and that Cato is still eyeing me openly.

I have a younger sister and an older brother.

I have caring parents, even if they don't show it at times.

My name is Glimmer Fiona Moran.

And I _will_ go home.

Even if it means killing the boy from the same District as me.

Even if it means killing buff, blonde, attractive Cato.

Even if it means defying President Snow.

Even if it means defying the entire Capitol.

I _will_ go home.

**A/N: Bah, I hated the ending of that chapter. That whole chapter was pretty bad, really. Sorry it took so long, but getting Cato's description and Glimmer's reaction and such was difficult. Anyway, much more detailed descriptions and such next chapter! I pinky swear! And Cato/Glimmer interaction! Training begins! Cato talks to Glimmer! It's so exciting, I could just nerd spazz all over the floor! **

**Speaking of which, I did that today when I found out that…I'M OFFICIALLY A PUBLISHED AUTHOR! Yeah! Unfortunately, it's not a book or anything….it's one Haiku, in a 200 page Haiku book. But still. Ginga-In-Ravenclaw is also in the book! Yeah! =D**

_**LIST OF REVIEWERS, ALERTERS, AND FAVORITERS:**_

**Gah! I'm not putting 'em all! Only the anonymous ones! I'll reply to everyone else, though. Guaranteed.**

**Scara**

**Gigglegiggle88**

**BTW, gigglegiggle88, I'm confused. There are two reviews with that penname, one is anonymous, on the other isn't. Is one of them not really you?**

**Reviews make updates come faster!**

**Read on and Rock out,**

**NinjaNakkiOfCabin11**


	4. Possible Alliances

**A/N: This update is so overdue, I'm not even going to bother you with anything extra until the end of the chapter. But be warned, my V key got stuck; apparently, my laptop thinks it's a rather unimportant letter.**

**I don't own the Hunger Games. Way to rub salt in the wound.**

_**Glimmer's P.O.V.**_

Last night, after a small meal of noodles in a creamy paste and a goblet of blue liquid, I crashed into my bed and was asleep before I could even peel off the pretty Parade dress.

Now, after looking at my reflection in the over-sized mirror in the bathroom, I feel a twinge of remorse. My hair is matted and ratty, my makeup smudged in an unattractive fashion. Because I failed to wipe off the powder on my face, there is a spot up on my hairline where a small bright red blemish now resides. It's nothing my prep team can't fix, but I do faintly recall Loyola sternly telling me to wash off the makeup, "or else".

My dress took a beating, too. Even though I know I will never wear it again, I still feel a slight pang in my heart to see the dress so rumpled. My armpits are slightly stained from me sweating in all of the bright lights, and a few gems seem to have fallen off somehow. There is a small tear at the hem, from where my foot got caught in it while trudging up the stairs to my room.

I shimmy out of it, dropping it to the floor. I grab the brush and run it through my locks a few times, just to get the biggest tangles out. When they are, I promptly step into the glass-cased shower and press the "On" button. The water is still the temperature I had it on previously, so all I have to do is push the button for mint smelling foam and I can relax. Finally, with a sigh, I close my eyes and allow my thought to consume me.

_Holy Hell. I'm in the Hunger Games._

It's the first thing that pops into my mind. It seems it still hasn't quite sunk into my system yet. I shake my head and focus on a safer topic.

_Saphira needs me. I can't disappoint Smolder._

Damn. It seems that every topic, even my usual go-to safe topics, aren't so safe anymore. They all relate to, tie back to the Games.

However, thoughts of my family seem to leave an even bigger pang in my heart than any other topic. So I move on to another, a topic that might just help me escape the horror of the Games:

_Alliances._

Okay, besides the obvious Marvel, I don't have any current allies. However, I haven't really got any time to talk to any other District tributes. But when we do in Training today…..

I reach out and stop the foam, changing the water back to normal to rinse me off.

District 2 is a normal ally of ours, and typically, so is District 4. I haven't even seen the District 4 tributes yet. I wonder if they are of any value to me.

My last thought makes me cringe. The Capitol is already turning me into a monster.

I turn off the water and step out of the shower, immediately being blow-dried from all directions. I daintily pick up a towel from the rack nearby and wrap it around me as I step over the discarded dress; I know an Avox will more than likely take it somewhere later.

Laid out on my dresser is a black jumpsuit with a red stripe going up both sides. A plain black t-shirt is there for under the jacket, and the springy, gel laced shoes from yesterday are there as well. As I get dressed, I notice a District 1 patch on my jacket.

I quickly head downstairs to see Fabio, Cynthi, and Marvel's stylists all sitting at the table, eating. Marvel must still be in his room.

I grab a plate and sit down next to Cynthi, who acknowledges me with a small smile, and immediately begin loading my plate with buttery biscuits and jams and different flavored honeys.

I'm halfway through my second biscuit when Marvel saunters in, shattering the comfortable silence.

"What's the plan?" He asks, swinging the chair around so that he's straddling it, facing us. He grabs a piece of sizzling bacon from a plate nearby and stuffs it in his mouth.

Cynthi scowls at him, and his own stylist looks completely appalled by his behavior and manners. "Sit properly, Marvel." She says in a shrill voice. I inwardly cringe. I'm suddenly glad Marvel's stylist hasn't talked to much, or that voice would have given me a headache.

With a sigh, Marvel flips his chair back around.

"What _is_ the plan?" I ask, because I really do want to know.

"Make alliances, but make powerful alliances. No weaklings. I don't care if they are from a District that normally allies with District 1. If they are weak, ignore them. However, I would do well to remind you that size and muscle isn't everything. While it can be extremely useful, they do need some semblance of brains to back it up. Look for fast runners, and lithe fighters. Anyone who is of any value to you. Once you scoped those specific people out, keep a casual eye on them before you approach them. Watch what stations they go to, how powerful they are, and how they react to certain things. A big, burly boy might be nice of a person to kill when necessary. A lithe, quick girl might be untrustworthy. Appearances, while they do count for something, do not count for everything."

I blink at Fabio. His face is dead serious, and I'm not sure he's ever said anything that long without smiling or squealing. He wants us to live. He wants us to go home.

I stuff more biscuit into my mouth and wipe the crumbs off with my napkin.

Cynthi tugs on my hair until I face away from her, and she parts my hair into two sides, then braids them and ties them off with two small, clear rubber bands.

"To keep it out of your face." She whispers in my ear.

I give her a grateful smile and stand up, alongside Marvel.

"Hurry up, training starts in 15 minutes." Marvel's stylists trills. We dash into the elevator and press the blue, glowing TRAINING button. As the door slides closed, Marvel mutters, "That woman gives me nightmares."

**~*~*~FIRE~*~IS~*~CATCHING~*~*~**

The doors slide open, revealing a large room filled with test dummies, targets, plants, bows, nets, and so much more. A few wooden tables are off to the side, and there's a balcony, where a few gamemakers lolled around, chattering with each other and drinking champagne.

A small cluster of people in jumpsuits similar to mine, only with varying numbers on their badges, were already there. I quickly made my way over to join them.

As soon as I approached, what little whispers were being exchanged immediately ceased.

"Who runs this?" I asked, making eye contact with a scrawny boy from District 3. He noticeably gulped and stuttered, "I-I-I don't know."

I roll my eyes, and turn back towards Marvel, who's standing back, his face impassive. I stand next to him, facing away from the group. "Have you seen anyone?" I whisper.

He catches on immediately. "That guy who just walked in. From 11."

I glance over my shoulder. He's big and bulky, and looks like he could kick some serious ass. For a second, I wondered if he'd come down without the girl Tribute. But then, his gaze flickered downwards, then back up. I looked to where he'd just looked, and was surprised to see a tiny little girl no older than 12.

"No." I say, turning back to Marvel. "He keeps glancing down at the girl. He won't likely leave her, and I don't want any extra unnecessary disadvantages."

Marvel gives a curt nod, but his eyes narrow. I don't have to look to see who it was that got that reaction out of him- the District 12 people.

"No." He says instantly.

I glare up at him. "Put your ego aside for a second, dumbshit. They could be useful."

He turns his glare on me. "They upstaged us, Glimmer. If we made an alliance, the audience will assume them leaders of the pack. _We_ are the leaders of the pack, Glimmer. No."

I look away, turning my glare onto a rack of sharp spears. I don't argue with him. He has _some _logic in his statement, but I don't doubt the strengths of them for a second. I internally decide to keep an eye on them, and see what they can do. If they look useful, maybe I'll bring it back up later.

I turn to face the same direction as Marvel. Everyone is here now.

Including Cato.

He turns his gaze on me. The corner of his mouth turns up, but then the girl from his District tugs on his arms, and he looks away. I, on the other hand, can't look away.

"_Glimmer."_

I can tell by his tone that he has tried to get my attention for a few minutes. "Listen to the lady. Do you _want_ to die?"

A slight blush creeps to my cheeks as I realize I have been staring. I internally slap myself as I turn my attention to the lady who has been talking, telling us of the importance of going to every station, not just the ones we're good at.

I cannot afford to miss and advice I am given, and I cannot afford to miss it over a _boy_. From another _District._

The lady dismisses us and leaves to join the gamemakers on the balcony. Immediately, I head for the knife throwing station, with a promise to Marvel to keep an eye on any possible ally.

It turns out, my first possible ally has headed for the same station as I.

The girl from 2 reaches for the same knife as me at the same time as me. She scrutinizes me, looking me up and down. I stare defiantly at her, my head high and shoulders back.

Finally, she lets a small smile slide onto her face. "You take it." She gestures to the targets.

I nod my thanks, allowing a slight smile of my own. "Glimmer." I say.

Her mouth twitches yet again in a smile. "Clove. From 2, obviously. And you're from 1." It isn't a question, it's a statement.

I nod. "I'm alright with a knife, but it isn't my favorite weapon." With that, I fling the knife hard at the target, and it sinks in with a _thunk_. It's in the bulls-eye area, but isn't in the dead center.

I turn to Clove, who nods her approval. She grabs another knife from the bucket, lines up at another target, and with the flick of her wrist, the knife is lodged in the center of the target. No doubt, if that was a person, they would be dead.

I stand back and watch her practice some more. She never misses.

Finally, she turns to look at me, with a crooked smile.

"What is your strong suit?" She asks.

With a smirk, I turn and walk across the area to the crossbows. I don't look to see if she's followed me, but the snort of amusement from behind me tells me she has, and is unimpressed with my choice of weapon.

Calmly, I lay out a row of twenty darts, and select a bow. I load it up, and turn to face Clove. She arches her eyebrow. Without warning, I whirl around and let loose. My hand grabs out and reloads with lightning fast speed and I shoot again. And I repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat, all the way until the table next to me is empty. Finally I set down my bow and look at my results. In less than two minutes, I unleashed 21 darts into the center of the bulls eye.

I turn to Clove. She looks somewhat impressed in her facial expression, but her eyes look in slight awe. She shake her head, looks me in the eyes and smiles.

"I think I'll go get Cato."

**A/N: Sorry for lack of Cato, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. =( But he's TOTALLY in next chapter, quite a bit…**

**Reviews are amazing, and I fully intend to respond to them all! Sorry for the late update, it shouldn't happen again. I think the update will come within the week.**

**Au revior, little biscuits! =)**

**Read on and Rock out,**

**NinjaNakkiOfCabin11**


	5. Stupid By Association

**A/N: I really need to get better at this whole "update fast" thing. Seriously. But blame my bro's obsessive need for every damn computer in the house for his freaking Senior Project.**

**Don't own Hunger Games, if I did, Finnick would still be alive. Damn, that man is a sexy beast.**

_**Glimmer's P.O.V.**_

I'm waiting for Clove to come back with Cato when Marvel sidles up next to me. "Impressive, Glimmer. Have you sealed the deal yet?" He mutters.

I shoot him a look. "No." I respond tightly. "Might as well have, though. She's gone to get Cato." His name is fun to say, it kind of rolls off my tongue. It sounds nice, I decide, and when spoken aloud, it's more capturing than in my thoughts.

Marvel doesn't seem to notice. "Don't screw this up." His face is dead serious. "We need them. They're the ideal allies."

I roll my eyes at him. "No shit."

Just then, Clove strides back over to us, Cato in tow. "Cato." Clove inclines her head to him. "This is Glimmer." She nods to me. "And this is…her district partner…"

"Marvel." Cato finishes for her as he nods in acknowledgement. "We've met." His isn't too low, or too high- it's the perfect happy medium. It's goes just right with his physique, and is smooth, not one hitch in it's tone. But then again, he's only said about three words.

Finally, he turns to look at me. His blue eyes are piercing, and his gaze just locks me into place. I'm frozen, rooted to the spot, under his gaze. Finally, he lets out a small grin. "Hey." He says, holding out his hand to shake mine. I stare at it for a second, afraid of how I might react if I touch him. Finally, I reach out and grab his hand. It feels like I've gotten too close to District 12's chariot and caught myself on fire. His hands are a bit rough, but warm. I look at our shaking hands and notice the outstanding size difference of them immediately. My small hand is lost in his grip. After what seems like an eternity, he lets go. I let out a small breath I didn't even know I was holding.

"Hello." I make my voice strong as I look into his eyes. They're much too blue, and I force myself to tear my eyes away.

"Did you see what she did?" Clove asks him, pointing to the target with darts impaling it.

Cato nods out his approval. "Nice job, Glimmer." I want him to say my name again. When he says it, it sounds good. It sounds…pretty.

"Thanks." I say carefully, making sure I don't stutter. Not good.

Cato quickly turns to Clove, who merely arches an expertly-plucked eyebrow, courtesy of her prep team. With a quick, curt nod, Cato turns back to us and holds out a hand. Clove does the same.

"Alliance?" He grins.

**~*~FIRE~*~IS~*~CATCHING~*~**

When we reach our District floor, Topaz, Wen, and Fabio are all waiting.

"How was the first day?" Topaz asks eagerly. Clearly, she's expected us to form an alliance.

I exchange a quick look with Marvel. "Fine." I say quickly. "But if you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room to freshen up before dinner." I smile kindly and brush past them. As soon as I climb the stairs, I bolt for my room at the end of the hallway. Earlier, in the elevator, Marvel and I had a quick conversation about what to tell our mentors and escort. We had quickly hashed out a plan to tell them at dinner- tomorrow. I wanted to hold off disclosing our alliance for now, until we can give our crew a better explanation for the alliance than, "They offered us."

I quickly discarded my training suit and dropped it in a small white basket near the door. I bounded to the shower and selected my usual minty foam, stepping under the warm water. I let out a sigh as I felt the tension ease off of my taunt shoulders and back. With a sigh, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the shower wall. _So overwhelmed._

Unfortunately, my forehead hits a purple button that stopped the water. Before I can say, "What the hell?", three little holes, each the size of a walnut, open up overhead. Little tiny metal nozzles drop down, and at once start to spray something that smells like flowers all over me. More little metal nozzles pop out of the wall, spraying me from all sides.

"Son of a-!" I splutter, coughing and hacking as the spray gets into my mouth. I stumble backwards, face scrunched up as I am mercilessly sprayed by floral mist. My hand shoots out and hits the lovely red button, and the mist stops at once, the little nozzles disappearing back into the walls and ceiling.

"Blech!" I cough. I leap out of the shower and spit in the sink, then rinse my mouth. I scrape my fingernails down my tongue, trying to rid myself of the taste. I spit once more, than gave my hair a tentative sniff. _Ew. _I smell as if I'd just pranced around in a meadow.

Unexpectedly, the thought of meadow-prancing reminds me of my little sister. Tears spring up, but I rapidly blink, refusing to let them fall. When I declare myself out of the danger zone, I grab a towel, wrap it around myself, and peek out of the bathroom door, looking at the blinking, red digital clock. _Damn. _No time to take another shower to wash off the overpowering stink, not without being late to dinner. I contemplate my options, then decide smelling like a meadow is better than death at the hands of Fabio. I hastily brush my hair and tied it back, then race out to put on a pretty blue blouse and a soft white skirt, courtesy of Cynthi.

With one last glance at myself in the mirror, I lace up my gel-shoes and trudge downstairs. I don't touch the bottom stair when everyone turns to look at me. Marvel's nose is scrunched up like he'd smelled something awful, as was Wen and Topaz's noses. Fabio clearly looks uncomfortable, but is trying hard not to show it. Only Cynthi's face remains impassive as Marvel's stylist suspiciously sniffs at her green drink.

"You smell." Marvel state bluntly as I slowly make my way over to the table. I shoot him a death glare.

"Shut up, or I swear I'll ram that glass so far up yo-" Fabio interrupts me with a stern, "Glimmer."

I sit next to Topaz and immediately load my plate with some breaded bird of some kind, and a few rolls slathered with a creamy paste.

Topaz clears her throat. "Um, dear, why do you smell so…" She falters, not able to come up with the right word. "Uhhh…"

I ignore her, only stuffing the rolls into my mouth. Fabio clears his throat. "So, Glimmer, Marvel tells me you did excellent with a crossbow today." He smiles, taking a sip of his drink. I only shrug in response.

"I guess."

Marvel rolls his eyes and snorts. "Yeah, she 'guesses'. I'm telling you, twenty darts, one target, bullseye, less than two minutes." He rips the meat off the bird's leg savagely.

I swallow. "One. Twenty-_one_ darts." I can't help but correct him.

Cynthi gives a sharp, proud nod, while Fabio cheerfully claps his hands. Topaz gives a mega-watt smile, as does Wen.

"Excellent!" Marvel's stylist shrills. "And what did Marvel do today?" She asks, putting a perfectly manicured claw of his shoulder. Marvel tenses, but doesn't pull away.

I tear more meat off my portion of the bird and chew slowly as I realize that I _don't_ know what Marvel did today. He could have tried to shoot President Snow and I wouldn't have known.

_Or cared. _My brains whispers.

I swallow and take a long drink out of my glass. "I wasn't actually paying attention." I say slowly. I do feel a little bad.

"Glimmer." Topaz says sternly. "You need to understand that in the Arena, you _must_ pay attention."

I open my mouth to defend myself, to let her know that I was busy focusing on my own training, and that maybe Marvel should have done the same, when she continues on.

"I'm sure you were focused on hitting the center target. On landing each blow. And that's good. But you will need to multitask. What if, in the arena, you are so focused on taking out an opponent, that you don't realize another opponent is behind you? You won't realize it until his knife is in your back; until it's too late."

I clamp my mouth shut. She's right. Multitask. Okay. I'll keep it in mind. But despite the lesson in it all, the only thing that really sticks in my head is about me _taking out an opponent_. Taking out. As in killing.

Suddenly, I'm angry. Take _out? _I'm expected to _kill! _But I am a _child_. An image from earlier speeds through my mind. That small girl, from District 11. The one who hides behind her partner's legs. She is _so_ young. And _she_ is expected to kill!

My anger fuels me as I respond. "Well, it's a good thing that I don't plan on taking more than a few seconds to send a dart into the heart of the first opponent. By the time I do, I'll have turned around in time to shoot the next one."

Silence ensues. Soon, Marvel shatters it by droning on about how he hefted weight balls and heavy objects around like they were nothing. I chew in silence, only wishing to escape.

**~*~FIRE*~*IS*~*CATCHING~*~**

The next day, we are back in our tracksuits, back in the training room. As soon as everyone is present, people break off into groups and start getting to work, trying to improve strengths and gain allies.

Marvel, Clove, Cato, and I break off into our own group. We go to the climbing station, which in itself is impressive. There's two huge rock walls- but they aren't the plastic type with brightly colored handholds. They're real, solid rock, though they do have one of the plastic ones wedged in the corner of the station. Off to the side of the walls is what essentially looks like a huge mess of rope piled together. It's twisted, and knotted at various places, and hard to maneuver and climb.

Marvel kicks the real rock wall with one foot, then crosses his arms. "Right." He states. Suddenly, he grabs onto the rock and begins to climb.

Cato grins wickedly. "I could be up and back by the time you reach halfway." He taunts, grabbing onto the other real rock wall. Clove rolls her eyes and starts to climb the plastic wall.

With a grunt, Marvel kicks out from the wall and aims a kick at Cato's head, but Cato has already ducked. He, too, starts climbing. I bite my lip on focus on the rope pile. Now is not the time to watch. I need to do something productive. I'm not great at climbing, but I think I can handle this.

Quickly pushing all other thoughts out of my mind, I grasp the handholds made of rope. I pull myself up, but my uneven weight makes the rope twist and fold over on itself. I curse loudly, and grab onto a rope handhold above my head with both hands, and pull my feet free from the rope. Now, I'm dangling by both hands on this damn rope. I kick my legs up and latch them onto handholds as well. Now I'm upside down, clinging to the rope with my hands and feet. I start to crawl forwards. Eventually, I reach my hands limit and drop my feet down from the rope, so I can jump down.

Er, _foot_.

My left foot is tangled in the mess of rope, and it won't budge. I can't left go with my hands, because then I'd be hanging upside-down by one foot. Not good. I twist and pull, by the rope doesn't budge. A snicker sounds to my left.

Oh, God. One of my allies is watching. So now it won't be long before they all are.

_Cato will see me make a fool of myself. _It's the first thought that pops into my head, and I immediately get angry at myself. How can I think that? What I _should_ be thinking is that by showing this weakness, I am making a mockery of myself _and _my teammate, Marvel. This will make me look stupid, and nobody wants to ally with someone stupid. This, my foot stuck in a rope, could ultimately cause my death in the arena.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over me. I twist my head around to see Cato standing there, smirking. My mouth goes dry and I swallow.

"Don't worry." He says in a low voice that sends tremors down my spine. "They haven't seen you yet. Well, Marvel has. But he won't say anything. It'll make you guys look stupid." He smirks his damn smirk again.

_See? _A part of my brain says. _He knows this could cost you allies. _He's _got his head in the game. So get yours in!_

Slowly, he reaches under the hem of his shirt and pulls the handle of a smalll knife out, then the blade itself. I swallow a gasp and try to erase terror from my face. Surely he wouldn't kill me now? We weren't in the arena yet! It's against the rules to hurt another Tribute, let alone kill one! But nobody is watching.

As soon as these thoughts embed themselves into my brain, he uproots them by swiftly cutting the ropes around my foot. I quickly let go the ropes and land safe and sound on the ground as he tucks the knife back up his shirt. My hands scream in relief. I look down at them to see that they are red and raw from holding the rope so long.

"Thank you." I say smoothly, face as impassive as possible as I attempt to pick up any and all shreds dignity I can find.

He grins. "You're welcome." Suddenly, his face is as impassive as mine. "But don't get used to it." He murmurs as his gaze flinchingly fixates on my face. "I don't want to be stupid by association, ally." Then he smiles again, and leaves me alone so to go rescue Marvel and Clove, who have been fist fighting intently at the top of their respective rock walls.

My body turns hot to cold and then back again as I process his words. He couldn't let me make a fool of himself, or he'd make a fool of himself by choosing to ally with me. That's why he helped me. For some reason, that makes me the slightest bit sad, but I quickly squash that thought as I join the others as we move on to the memory-testing station.

I don't know what kind of spell Cato seems to have me in, but I want out, now. It's much, much too dangerous.

But even I can tell that won't happen anytime soon.


	6. Author's Note (sorry)

**Entirely Overdue Author's Note in Which I Beg for Your Forgiveness and Grovel at Your Feet For Help:**

Hey guys, long time no see, eh? It's been YEARS. Like, literally years. And now I'm back. I am so, SO freaking sorry for leaving you guys like I did. Please, please forgive me? And I really, really want to continue this story:)

But, see, the problem is, I don't remember what direction this story was going to take. I don't remember any of the details or any of my ideas. Also, I don't even know if people still READ this, or even LIKE it. I'll be honest, I've reread this stuff, and JESUS. CRINGING ALL OVER THE PLACE. Some of this is really, really bad. But some of it's good. And I'm pretty sure all of my old friends and readers aren't active anymore:(

But I'm willing to give this another try, yeah? Because if you ARE still around, you guys at least deserve a little bit of closure. So here are your options:

1. I do NOTHING with this story. I leave it be, as it is now, and just don't touch it anymore. I can leave it alone and you guys can just draw your own conclusion(s) for it.

2. I rewrite. I'll try to salvage the good parts, and I'll keep the main idea….I'll just rewrite and execute it better. Again, THE CENTRAL IDEA WILL REMAIN THE SAME. Same plot, same characters, better writing.

3. I DON'T rewrite the already existing chapters, just leave them be, and then add on new chapters with better writing. I'll just continue on with the story as if I never even left.

4. Maybe just delete the damn thing. I dunno.

And that's that. So. I'm really, really glad to be back. So even if you DON'T like this story, please drop me a review or a PM with which option you think I should take and/or any ideas you may have concerning the story. This note has been posted on almost ALL of my stories, with the exception of a few that are either complete or that I already know what I'm doing with. If that sentence even made sense. Whatever. But on most of my stories, I need your help. Tell me what direction I should take, 1, 2, or 3. Or even 4.

Thank you guys sooo much for sticking by if you have, or for reading if you're new. I love you guys so much. SO MUCH.

Read on and Rock out,

NinjaNakkiOfCabin11


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